


Synaptic Pruning

by quiet_or_die



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M, Mentions of surgery, Minor Character Death, hanahaki, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 23:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17171921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet_or_die/pseuds/quiet_or_die
Summary: Sanzo has already had the surgery to prevent him from developing hanahaki—and experiencing true love—but then Goku develops it . . . and he's in love with Sanzo.





	Synaptic Pruning

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for Jade, I hope you like it!
> 
> Thank you to https://minekura-fan-events.tumblr.com/ for setting up this Secret Santa Gift Exchange!
> 
> Please read the end notes AFTER reading the fic!

     Two years after Koumyou’s death, at that time of winter when even winter was buried under its own snow, Sanzo encountered Hanahaki for the first time. He had followed a baseless rumor—the first rumor in half a year—about a man who appeared to be carrying the Maten sutra into the mountains. He hadn’t known just how treacherous the mountains are in the middle of winter. Luckily, he found the small mountain town before the blizzard hit; luckily, the local innkeeper let him stay for free even though she had no customers. Unluckily, he was stuck in that hellhole for three months.  
     The innkeeper and Sanzo got on well. She was polite to him, but largely left him alone, and wasn’t one for chattering away at him. She didn’t care that he was a Sanzo, which could sometimes be vexing, but she didn’t treat him like a child either. That first week went by peacefully, if boringly. It was at the end of that first week when he heard the violent coughing. It was coming from the kitchen and as he was planning to make a cup of tea anyway, and had heard her coughing before, he walked right in.  
     The innkeeper: on her knees on the floor, hands plastered over her mouth, trying vainly to suppress the coughing. On the floor: blood, petals, leaves. Sanzo handed her a towel, cleaned the floor, and boiled enough water for a pot of tea. They didn’t talk about it. It wasn’t his business. There was nothing to say.  
     He continued to help out around the inn. He didn’t want to owe anyone anything.

 

     Everyone in town knew. They whispered about “that poor woman” with pity, but none of them did anything, never brought by a freshly-baked loaf of homemade bread, never stopped by to chat. “She must have done something in a previous life, to suffer true love unrequited.”  
     But the woman was kind and helped her neighbors, had a good-natured smile for everyone. Even so, she was alone but for Sanzo.  
     And perhaps that was for the best. This way, she maintained her dignity until the end. Privately, he hoped it had been for the best, though it couldn’t have been any other way.

     After, Sanzo swore he’d never die in such a miserable fashion, never love someone so much that he coughed up flowers and thorns. He had better things to do, and he was a Sanzo before all else. So he tracked down someone with the ability to perform the operation, and someone who was willing to operate, and had the organ responsible for that foolishness taken out. He never planned to love anyone in any capacity ever again. But the organ that causes Hanahaki is only responsible for “true” love, and there was a voice calling him, incessantly.

* * *

     “I’m okay, Hakkai,” Goku protests as Hakkai bundles him up in blankets and fluffs his pillow. “Just a little cold, so no need to worry, ‘kay?”  
Hakkai’s frown doesn’t change. “It’s so rare for you to get sick. . . .”  
     “What issit they say?” Gojyo asks from the corner where he’s sprawled out, a beer in one hand, an ashtray and cards in easy reach. “Only idiots don’ get sick? Guess monkey is finally growin’ a brain.” He sniggers at his own joke as he reveals his hand, four of a kind, though his smile withers under Hakkai’s glare of disapproval.  
     Sanzo lays his cards neatly on the table, a straight flush. “We’re only staying one more day.” He meets Hakkai’s eyes evenly. “That’s all the time we can afford.”  
     “Thasok,” Goku responds, though another violent coughing fit breaks out immediately after and he turns away from the room at large.  
     “The hell man?! A straight flush again? Did you stack the deck you cheating monk?”  
     “You shuffled, dumbass.” Sanzo replies, about to light a smoke. Abruptly Hakkai snatches both the cigarette and the ashtray.  
     “If you two could refrain from smoking indoors today and tomorrow?” Hakkai’s polite smile does nothing to disguise the promised violence coming off him in waves. Sanzo huffs impatiently, but doesn’t argue. Gojyo scoffs.  
     “Man, thanks a lot, dumbass monkey.” The redhead leans back on his hands, eyes on the ceiling—which is why he doesn’t even see the pillow coming until it smacks him square in the face. “Why you little—” He snatches the pillow, about to chuck it back when a polite cough interrupts.  
     “I do believe we should all turn in early.” Hakkai returns the pillow back to its proper place on Goku’s bed. Sanzo snorts and Goku snarks “Yes, mom,” but there’s no arguing with Hakkai when he has a patient.

 

     At first it appears that Goku is getting better. He still coughs furiously but the bouts are further apart. In general, their journey continues on as it has. At the next hotel, Goku seems to be fine, leaping out before Jeep has even come to a full halt, yelling gleefully: “I get dibs on bed choices!”  
     “Wha—Hey! Get back here!” Gojyo is still struggling to get out when Hakkai offers him the shopping list. “Fine, fine.”  
     “Don’t forget, fresh ginger, not dried.”  
     “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”  
     Sanzo and Hakkai watch the redhead walk away . . . and get distracted by a pretty girl before he’s even around the corner. “You know he’s going to take his time,” Sanzo states dryly. Hakkai sighs but there’s a fond tilt to his lips.  
     “That’s alright. He’s been restless recently, it’ll be good to let him blow off some steam.” They both know that the real reason it’s good to let Gojyo “blow off some steam” is that it’ll be good for him to get away from Goku for a time; he’ll never say so but he’s worried about his back seat partner, and getting away to drink, gamble, and flirt is his way of dealing with it.  
     “He’ll probably pick up some treat for Goku and spoil him.”  
     “Haha, such a good father, Sanzo.” Ignoring the death glare, Hakkai picks up his bag and Jeep the jeep-turned-dragon, continuing, “you know though, it’s alright to spoil kids when they’re sick. . . .”  
     “Who told you that?” Sanzo asks sourly. “For once I agree with those monks, there’s no reason to do such things. Besides, it’s not like he’s a child anymore.”  
     “Of course. Shall we?”  
     The duo enter the hotel and pay for the room Goku’s managed to acquire, Sanzo handing over the gold card while Hakkai chatters with the innkeeper about weather (useful information at least) and newborns (completely inane information). More-minutes-than-Sanzo-would-like later, they troop up the stairs to their room.  
     “It’s nice to have assurance that the weather will stay nice for the next few days,” Hakkai is saying as he opens the door, looking at Sanzo. The slight widening of the monk’s eyes and the way he stills is all the healer needs to know something’s not right. And there’s Goku: on his knees, a hand cupped over his mouth, face turning red with coughing. Blood and pollen smeared on his hand. On the floor: disfigured sunflowers, stray petals and leaves, and blood, vivid against the bright yellow and green.  
     Hakkai is beside him immediately, rubbing his back—for all the good that will do.  
     “Who?” The word is harsh and weighted, like it’s made of stone instead of sound. But Goku’s still coughing and doesn’t answer. Sanzo isn’t the only one to recognize the leaves dripping from Goku’s mouth for what they are, but Hakkai waits until Goku is done with the latest round of coughing before he says anything.  
     “Who is it, Goku?”  
     “Whozwhat?” Goku asks, confused and disoriented, and grimacing at the mess.  
     “The person you’re in love with.”  
     Goku’s face shutters, expression closing off in a way they never saw until their journey began. “Who says I’m in love with anyone? What does it matter anyway?”  
     “The reason you’re sick is a disease called Hanahaki, it develops when someone’s love goes unreciprocated.”  
     The brief look Goku sends Sanzo’s way is all they need.  
     Sanzo—”  
     “I can’t.” Sanzo’s words fall cold and flat, dropping heavily, causing all other sound to flee. The silence sits there forebodingly, a spider in the wait. Hakkai’s lips pinch together as the healer closes his eyes and fights to control a sudden blush of temper.  
     “This is serious. For once could you—”  
     “It is not a matter of choice,” Sanzo interrupts again, causing Hakkai to turn his complete attention away from Goku for the first time since they entered the room. Sanzo’s voice softens slightly, “I had the surgery years ago.” Hakkai’s eyes flutter closed, closing this time in worry, brow creased with deep furrows of concern. “He needs to have the surgery, Hakkai.” Hanahaki doesn’t go away once it’s begun unless the true love is returned. Supposedly, it only occurs when someone finds their true love, which is why cases of it are rare.  
     “I know.”  
     “You are able to do it, correct?”  
     “Wait, what surgery? What are you talking about?” Goku looks from one to the other, eyes darting between them as he waits for someone to explain.  
     “There’s an operation you can take, though it’s generally risky. Not many people can do it and fewer are willing to. It removes the organ responsible for Hanahaki.”  
     Goku’s brow furrows and his eyes are sharp and calculating. Another thing they never saw until their journey west began. “And?”  
     “It also removes the ability to experience romantic love.”  
     Instantly Goku’s expression darkens. “No,” he declares firmly, to absolutely no one’s surprise.  
     “Don’t be an idiot,” Sanzo snaps. Hakkai frowns but doesn’t say anything as Goku fights tears.  
     “It hurts but I don’t, I don’t want to give them up, because it’s good too.”  
     “Having the surgery doesn’t mean you’ll lose all those good feelings. You still care about people and can develop close bonds.” Hakkai immediately explains with a gentle smile.  
     “But it’s not the same.”  
     “No. It’s not.”  
     “So what, you want to die for that?” Sanzo snorts derisively. “Go ahead then. But we have a mission, and I don’t have the time to drag some idiot with a death wish with me.” It’s selfish, as only Sanzo can so bluntly be. Hakkai glares at the monk, but Goku stares at him thoughtfully.  
     “You want me around.”  
     Sanzo scowls and turns away, but Goku has already seen his answer. And in that simple, straightforward way of his, Goku changes his mind.  
     “Alright, I’m fine with the surgery.”  
     Hakkai, however, is hesitant about how easy the turnaround was. “Are you absolutely sure? It is a dangerous surgery.”  
     “I want to live.” Goku states, looking directly at Hakkai. “I want to keep traveling West with all of you. And you’ll be my surgeon, right?, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

* * *

     The sun is setting, sending soft beams of light arcing through the clouds, creating a heat patina of reds, pinks, purples, and golds across their pale surfaces. Sanzo watches it from the edge of town silently as he smokes, arms crossed. It’s the first town they’ve reached in months, the first one since Goku had the surgery—and it’s much closer to the border of India. It won’t be long now before they cross the border.  
     “Sanzo!”  
     Sanzo doesn’t turn around or move in any way until Goku has raced up the hill and skidded to a stop next to him. Then he looks over, a silent question.  
     “Just wonderin’ what yer up to. And Gojyo got really drunk.” The brunette’s nose crinkles. “He’s been really obnoxious.”  
     “Hn.”  
     They stand in silence and watch the sun set for a while. “It’s really pretty,” Goku eventually says. But his gaze has turned from the landscape in front of them to the man next to him, examining how the light hits Sanzo’s hair. Sanzo grunts in what can be taken for agreement, still watching the setting sun, before he realizes what Goku is currently looking at. His eyebrows draw together sharply and his eyes are stern and demanding, but Goku just smiles back.  
     “Hey, Sanzo . . . do you want to go get some dinner? Just the two of us?”  
     Goku waits expectantly, even as seconds change to minutes. Sanzo’s gaze stays on the horizon, a frown on his face, a furrow between his eyes. Casually, he taps ash off the end of the cigarette. Then he spins on his heel and heads back to town. Goku’s grin blossoms as he falls into step.  
     “Alright, where do you want to go? There’s apparently this place with really good dumplings—”

     Together: two young men turn their backs on the West and head back East, walking so close their shoulders brush at every step. On their faces: smiles, one small but amused, the other wide and bright.

**Author's Note:**

> "Behind the Scenes":
> 
> So I had to look up what hanahaki was before writing this. I knew what it was vaguely but needed a refresher. I saw some mention of surgery to remove the organ causing hanahaki, and went with that idea. 
> 
> On tumblr I rp Sanzo and headcanon him as asexual/aromantic. I myself identify on the a-grey scale. SO I wanted to challenge the idea of "true love" in this, and I suppose the idea of hanahaki itself. I wanted to twist the prompt a bit while still remaining true to it, I hope I've managed that.
> 
> The other idea that went into the developing this is my knowledge of how the brain continuously rewires itself and can even make new pathways after significant brain damage to recreate what it's lost, as much as it is able. 
> 
> The reason I choose the title is partly because I wanted a reference to plants but didn't want to go with flowers or anything too obvious. I also wanted to bring the brain's abilities into it somehow. The result was Synaptic Pruning. Synaptic Pruning is essentially the brain getting rid of stuff to make itself more efficient. The brain does this throughout our lives, but it's most active during childhood to early puberty. Thus: Sanzo eliminates what he views as nonessential in order to become more efficient. 
> 
> I've put these notes at the end because I didn't want to interfere with your reading of this story, and your take on its meaning. I would love to hear what you thought!


End file.
